I don't Believe in Second Chances
by theearth
Summary: Guy of Gisborne is captured, tortured and imprisone; one day a scarred and bitter man is released. He is even rewarded with a castle and a title and... a wife he does not want.
1. Chapter 1

The heavy oaken door opened with a loud squeak, but Guy did not look up. It would be the warden bringing the usual hard bread, water and rancid cheese. Sometimes there was a little oatmeal and, if he was in a good mood, an apple as well. Opening the door half way, three steps into the room, putting down the tray, wheezing, grunting, three steps out of the room, closing the door.

This time, however, the door was opened all the way, and then – silence. As Guy looked up slowly, his eyes fell upon a knight unknown to him. Had they finally decided to hang him, after 4 years?

"You are free, Sir Guy. "

Guy blinked. _Free_?

The strange night stepped aside and waved in a servant. "I am Robert of Sangdon and I am here by the order of the King. Walter will provide you with everything you need. A bath will be prepared for you, and fresh clothing as well. As soon as you have recovered enough to travel, you will accompany me to Court; King John is expecting you."

Without any further explanations, the knight nodded his farewell and left.

_Free… Kind John….Kin__g Richard was dead then_. Guy got up awkwardly and followed the servant. On the threshold he blinked, being unaccustomed to the light, and took a look back into the dungeon in which he had been kept prisoner. His legs were stiff, far too long he had not used them. Being supported by the servant, he walked over to the bath house. Guy noticed the servant's shock when he took off the rags that were left of his clothes. This man, once muscular, was starved, his skin sallow and split, his hair, hanging down his back, dirty, filthy, and full of lice.

Slowly, Guy lowered himself into the tub and closed his eyes, and let his thoughts wander back.

So, King Richard had finally had the thought of returning home. Not everything had gone the way he had imagined. On the way back from the Holy Land he had been arrested and tons of silver had to be paid as ransom. All that for a King who did not like England and preferred to travel somewhere else. Still the simple people loved King Richard and had welcomed him in triumph.

He had gathered his loyal supporters and hunted down the _traitors._ Guy had been among them. Robin of Locksley had reported to the King who was really responsible for the assassination in Akra and Guy had been on the run since then. He did not regret anything and would do it again.

This allegedly so humane King did not mind slaughtering women and children if it served his military purposes or when he sought revenge. He had left his country to itself and hunted for glory while his country was in need.

It was Locksley himself who had caught Guy; a stupid coincidence had taken him into the area where Guy was hiding. Locksley had come upon him in surprise and struck him down before Guy even had the chance to reach for his sword.

Heavily wounded he was led away and had soon lost conscience; when he woke up, he was in a dungeon of an unknown castle. It had not concerned him any further for he knew that it was only a matter of days until he would be hung. But time had passed and nothing had happened and finally Guy had realized what Locksley had meant when he screamed "This bastard does not deserve to die a quick death!" He would die in this dungeon he had been thrown in. It had been a miracle that he had survived the traumatic fever. There was a big scar now on his leg, but the worst thing was the long scar that was left of a wound caused by Locksley and that ran across his entire cheek. Maybe, if someone had cared to sew the wound, but why make this effort of a traitor who would rot in prison anyway? Guy had been fed; just enough to keep him alive. How many times had he been tempted to leave it on the floor, to fade into nothing, simply becoming weaker and weaker, but something had held him back, even if he didn't know what. And now he was free.

A barber cut off Guy's long hair and washed it thoroughly. The servant had prepared new garments and let Guy into a comfortable room. For the first time in years he stretched out on a soft bed instead of straw and closed his eyes. A young maidservant brought fresh bread, ham, sweet oatmeal, cheese and wine and could not suppress a sound of horror when she saw the knight on the bed, apparently asleep. When Guy opened his eyes slowly and looked at her, the maidservant fled in panic. Guy knew how he looked, like a hollow-cheeked specter. He had once been called handsome and he had never experienced a lack of willing women, but now? Even if he regained his strength, the scar would disfigure him forever.

Cautiously Guy tried the food; his stomach was unaccustomed to these amounts of food. Then he stretched out on the bed again and went to sleep immediately. In the following days he wandered the halls of the castle in order to regain his strength. It would be a long time until he could fight again, if it ever came to that. Guy didn't even know what King John had in store for him. Guy had never told anyone that it was in fact the former Prince John who was responsible for the assassination in Akra. It would not have changed anything and probably King Richard would not have believed him anyway. King John must think it was loyalty that was behind Sir Guy's silence, and instead of getting rid of this bothersome witness, he had freed him now.

Guy saw the servants' looks and aroused his old irascibility. After he had broken a servant's nose with a strike of his fist, they only approached him with their eyes downcast and were relieved when this terrible man left for the journey to court with Robert of Sangdon.

The hearing before the King had been brief. The Sheriff of Nottingham had drowned in a river, running away from King Richard's myrmidons and the current King was visibly uncomfortable with this living memory of his assassination back then. He thanked him fort he services to the Crown – Guy had almost burst out laughing –, had given him a bag of silver and awarded him the title of Earl of Bamburgh. Bamburgh Castle was located in Northumberland; formerly an important castle and the domicile of the Kings of Northumbria; it was now a lonely building up north, in a godforsaken area. However, its proximity to Scotland caused trouble; there were always incidents. King John made it clear that he expected Guy to quell the troubles and also emphasized that he did not care to see Guy in the near future. Guy realized that he had traded his little sinking dungeon for a big, more comfortable prison. On the next day, the new Earl of Bamburgh set off for the long journey to his new land.

Guy inhaled deeply. Within just a couple of months he had regained his old strength. He had come to love this country, where he could ride for hours without coming upon a living soul. The horses down at the stables were the only creatures he liked to be close to; they did not care what his face looked like, they sensed the love he had for them. Guy's servants, on the other hand, had learned to withdraw fast and without drawing attention to them, if they wanted to escape his easily aroused rage.

The lands were fertile but parts of them poorly cultivated. The manager was scared when his Lord had him show him the books. Knights who could read were rare; the previous Earl had always nodded his agreement and pretended to be capable of checking the entries. Guy had been quick to detect that a part of the earnings had found its way into the manager's pocket and had thrown him off his property after a public whipping on the town square of Bamburgh. The books he had taken over himself.

Guy's father had, as a pact with God, so to speak, turned over his son to the monastery, where Guy learned how to read and write. He had seen very soon, however, that life at the monastery was not for him; especially the obedience part. Jean of Gisborne had accepted it and Guy had left after his father had paid off the abbot with a donation to the monastery.

Shortly after, Jean of Gisborne had been convicted for treason against the French King. Guy and his mother had been able to flee; Guy's father and the three brothers had been executed. Guy had grown up with his mother's relatives. He had always felt, though, that he was the „poor relative" and had grown up with his mother's words to give glory again to the name of Gisborne. On her deathbed he had promised her to fulfill his parents' wish.

What would Anne of Gisborne have said if she had seen this castle? But Guy knew it would remain empty and the Gisbornes would die with him. He had loved once, but not been loved back. Like a fool he had worn his heart on his sleeves and given Lady Marian his love, but she had only used him to spy against Vasey. All feelings for him had been faked. The humiliation when she had hit him in his face at the wedding ceremony, he would never forget that. Guy's hands balled into fists in blind rage when he recalled that moment. He had learned very early in life that there were no second chances and he would not make that same mistake twice, trusting a woman. The whores he called up to the castle remained faceless. In the surrounding villages they told among themselves that the new Lord had a pact with the devil; he had this horrible scar in his face and nobody had ever seen him laugh.

The money that Guy made he spent for horses and a few valuable manuscripts. The old stable manager was fast to realize that his Lord know more about horses than anyone else did in the whole area, and that he could deal with horses far better than with people. While the other servants avoided the Earl von Bamburgh as far as possible, the stable manager observed Guy very closely. The gruff and irascible man treated his horses gently and spent the whole night at the stables when his favorite mare foaled. Nobody had ever seen him use a whip, and more than once he had heard him talk to a horse with a gentle voice. A truly peculiar man, the stable manager thought. He knew that he could not afford to get personal although Guy of Gisborne appreciated his knowledge as stable manager. He was friendly to horses only and only these knew that his overbearing voice could sound different.

After his daily ride Guy dismounted and led his new stallion into the stable where he handed him over to a servant who wiped the horse dry. Before he left, he rubbed the animal's coat and rewarded it with an apple. How often had he been thrown off and how much time and effort it had cost him to tame him, but he had been worth it. When Guy approached the gate with long strides, a servant came running up to him. "Milord, a messenger from the King is expecting you…"

_A messenger from the King? What did King John want? _This was probably about the muggings committed by the Scots within the past several weeks. Guy had succeeded in arresting some of the culprits and to convict them, but very often their families took bloody revenge.

The young knight was waiting in the great hall where a servant had served a meal and lit a fire; he had already eaten and was now waiting impatiently for Guy of Gisborne.

"My name is Henry of Statton. I have an important message from King John for you, Milord." He bowed and handed Guy a scroll; Guy broke the seal and started to read. With every word, Guy's mien grew darker and when he finally looked up, his eyes flashed with anger and his hands balled around the scroll, his knuckles turning white.


	2. Chapter 2

Guy turned away and took a deep breath. _He would have liked to throw the King's letter into the fire, to smash a chair into the messenger's head, to…_

"Go! ", he snarled, making an effort to restrain himself. "You will receive my answer to the King tomorrow morning." He knew how hollow his words sounded, for what choice did he have in giving an answer? None; he could do nothing but obey. After Sir Henry had left the hall, Guy smoothed the scroll he had unconsciously crumpled. Without preamble or formalities or any attempt to gloss over his command, John got right to the point.

_Your attempts up to this point to curb the muggings have failed despite your efforts. __Those incidents are jeopardizing my good relations to King David of Scotland. We have therefore decided to solve the problem this way: You will marry Doireann, the younger daughter of the Scottish Chiefs Niall Gordon. The wedding will take place three weeks from now at Bamburgh Castle. The dowry will be my responsibility. Consider it a wedding gift. I am confident that you understand the importance of this alliance and that you will welcome your bride accordingly. _

_John, King of__ England_

The young messenger of the King left the next day, relieved. Even though the servants had experienced their new Lord as gloomy and irritable, his irascibility did not seem to have any limits for the next several days.

A few days later his rage gave way to dark brooding. Not much later, the inhabitants of Bamburgh Castle learned what the ominous scroll had read when Guy of Gisborne called his housekeeper before him and instructed her in curt words that the wedding with the daughter of a Scottish Chief would take place in 2 weeks.

Eilidh Gordon took her daughter's hands into her own. "I know that you wanted to choose a different path, and if it were in my power…" She sighed. "It is the order of the King. I will not lie to you; your husband to be is not the man I would have wanted to share your life. I have made enquiries: Guy of Gisborne is not an old man yet, just a little over thirty, but his face is disfigured by a scar, and…"

"Mother, " the girl replied. "You know that I won't judge him by that."

"Yes, I know", her mother smiled. "If it were just that, no, but what people say about him makes me afraid for you. He is said to be a brutal man, overbearing and irascible. I doubt he would lift his hand against you; he would draw the rage of two Kings, but I am worried about how you will be, living with him. His reaction to the King's order is said to be very violent. Maybe it is a consolation for you that you can preserve the peace and many lives by marrying him."

Doireann knew that her mother loved her, and her father, too, in his own way, although he had never paid much attention to his daughter. She resembled her mother the most of all the children, with her red hair and green eyes and her slender figure. Even as a child she had always been helpful and friendly to everyone, and when she had expressed the wish of entering the convent instead of marrying, her father had agreed although he called it _a waste_ under his breath. Her cousin Liam had courted her but she had refused him. She did like him but she would never feel more for him than for her brothers. Again and again he had urged her to change her mind, she would come to love him, she would see, but Doireann had shaken her head sadly. She felt bad hurting him, but she did not wish to marry, and even if, he was not the right one.

But now everything had turned out differently. The wedding would take place in 2 weeks at Bamburgh Castle, before Doireann had even laid eyes on her future husband. Not that this was unusual, but the circumstances of this wedding scared Doireann. It had always be easy for her to find a path to other people's hearts, but what if this man did not have a heart?

Bramburgh Castle had been scrubbed from top to bottom and everyone was busy with wedding preparations, even though the housekeeper complained: Had anyone ever heard of a rich nobleman's wedding where the groom had not invited anyone and where the bride's guests were merely her parents, three of her siblings as well as three other relatives? They were due to arrive that night, and the wedding was scheduled for the next day.

While the housekeeper was arranging the big dining tables, Guy entered the room. He was scowling as usual. He could not have cared less about whether his future wife would be pleased by everything, but he knew what was expected of him. As he scrutinizing the room, the housekeeper summoned her courage and spoke to Guy: "As I have heard, Milord, your bride is a gentle young beautiful woman, and since…"

Guy stared at the woman incredulously. "How dare you! " he roared. " I don't care what she looks like! She could be warty with a hump for all I care! OUT!"

Scared, the housekeeper hurried out. In the kitchen, she dropped into a chair and took a deep breath. "The poor young Mistress", she said to the cook. "I don't know her yet, but I pity her already. What I need now is some ale."

Guy had no interest in his wife, neither in her finely spun wool dress or the silver necklaces nor in her gentle eyes and her long hair hanging down her back. He had welcomed the party politely; he knew what his social position demanded and had very well understood the King's veiled threat. Should Guy's behavior arouse any discomfort or complaints, he would quickly end up in a dungeon again. As he took his vows before the priest, Guy thought back to another wedding several years ago, when he believed to find his luck and his love. _Lies and deception, all of it!_

Doireann looked at her groom out of the corners of her eyes. He could not have made it any plainer that he did not want this wedding, although there was nothing he had done wrong socially. It was not his scar that had made her shiver, but the icy, empty gaze. Now she saw his eyes, while he vowed to love her and to care for her. – _Oh God, this man hated her!_

The fiest following the ceremony showed off everything the castle and the kitchen had to offer. The Earl of Bamburgh was rich, Doireann had noticed immediately, richer than her father, who had been impressed, she could see. The fields were fertile and the villages they had passed on their journey were clean. Guy of Gisborne was wearing magnificent garments; on the outside everything was just the way one would wish for. Her mother's face, however, told Doireann that she was shocked, too, by the coldness emanating from her son-in-law. Aside from the scar running across the left half of his face, Guy of Gisborne was a handsome man, but his cold eyes and his tightly shut lips boded ill. The cups with spicy wine he drank, did not seem to improve his mood either. Doireann herself had to force herself to eat. The deer was delicious most likely, but she did not taste anything.

Liam Gordon still could not believe it. _His _Doireann had married this monster. He saw how fragile and taciturn she was sitting next to her groom, and he had noticed the Earl's cold looks. Aside from him, only Eilidh seemed to notice what a disaster this wedding was. She squeezed his hand in sympathy. She had always liked Liam and would have welcomed him as a son-in-law, if Doireann had only had feelings for him. Rage was boiling inside Liam.

It was already late when Guy rose from the table. "Madam, may I accompany you to your rooms?" The talk ceased immediately as soon as he offered his arm to his young wife, who was rising slowly. Together they walked up the stairs. Guy opened a door and let Doireann enter before him. It was a magnificent room; chairs had been covered with furs and a soft blanket was spread out on the bed. A fire was crackling in the fireplace and the room had already turned nice and warm. Doireann, however, felt cold inside. Guy bowed to her curtly. „Madam!" Then he left the room. Doireann swallowed; she knew what came next: Her husband would give her a suitable amount of time to prepare and then he would return.

As Doireann covered herself with the blanket, she felt tears running down her cheeks and wiped them away hastily. She would not give her husband an opportunity to make fun of her. When her father had told her that it was the King's wish that she marry the Earl of Bamburgh, she had still hoped to get a husband she could come to love. Her parents' marriage told her that it was possible. But this hateful man she had married… There! His heavy footsteps resounded in the hall, and then… the sound grew fainter. He did not come to her room, not now and not later. She listened to the silence, and at last fell asleep. Nor did Guy enter her room on of the next days. Doireann realized then that her husband did not intend to have a normal marriage with her – she was relieved.

Guy was sitting in his own room, musing about his wife. The tension during the fiest after the wedding had been palpable, and at some point Guy had not been able to stand it any longer. Doireann's hand on his arm had trembled slightly, but she had caught herself quickly. Her behavior had confirmed the decision that had come to form in Guy's mind. He had noticed the scared look she had given him after the wedding. He'd rather go on paying whores than sleeping with a wife who would lie under him, stiff as a board, and who, as he already knew, despised him. She was beautiful and had a gentle face but he had been deceived by a gentle smile before.

Yes, Doireann was relieved, but she also knew that it would be a lonely life on Bamburgh Castle. She missed her family. Even if she had become a nun, she would have had to leave them, but she would have had her fellow sisters. Here she knew no one except for her lady-in-waiting and a servant she had brought – and her mare Philia who did not let anyone else ride her. Doireann had been a little girl when she had discovered her love for these beautiful animals. She screamed when she was lifted of a horse, and her brothers had often teased her that she had could ride before she even walked properly. Doireann and the horse seemed to have become one when she was riding, riding fast. Philia was a beautiful brown mare Doireann's father had given to her. Since she rode like a man, she should have a decent horse.

It was still early in the morning and Doireann went down to the stables. She was long a known visitor, for unlike many noblemen and women who rode their horses but left the rest to the servants, the young woman came to see her horse often. She had already explored the area a bit in the past several days and would be gone for a longer ride today. It looked like rain but this had never bothered her; she loved this kind of weather. Five hours later, Doireann returned to the castle yard and dismounted in front of the stables. While she was still patting Philia's neck affectionately, someone gripped her arm roughly and spun her around. Her husband's livid face was mere inches away from hers. "Where have you been?" he barked at her.

"Let go, you are hurting me", Doireann replied angrily and Guy let go of her arm in surprise.

Doireann rubbed her arm, which would undoubtedly be bruised tomorrow. She was not willing to let him intimidate her. Guy had hardly spoken to her since the wedding and even those occasions had been rather accidental.

"I have been out for a ride, Milord, as every day, and so far you have not evoked the impression that you seemed to care how I spend my days. I am not a prisoner here at Bamburgh, or do you think differently?"


	3. Chapter 3

Guy frowned at his wife. He had expected her to be intimidated, maybe start crying; instead, she had stood her ground. His impression of her had been wrong, evidently. In spite of himself he had to smile. „I apologize, Milady", he replied. „I lost my temper and I regret it; it won't happen again. You should not go riding that long by yourself. Should something happen to you, the consequences will be far-reaching. You will have someone to accompany you from now you." With those words, he turned to leave.

Doireann stared after him. She did not know herself where she had found the courage to speak to her husband like that. It was not like her, but then again, it had never been necessary. With her easy ways, Doireann had always been quick to capture everyone's heart. Maybe it had been fear of losing the sole thing that brought her joy and what made life here bearable for her. Rides meant freedom to her and she would not let anyone take that away from here. Suddenly she was grinning. Was she getting to know herself now, after seventeen years? She thought about her husband's surprised face. Why did he smile all of a sudden? She didn't know for she did not know her husband and probably never would. Suddenly it came to her mind: Why not? Doireann had never let prejudices stop her to make her own experiences, except in this case.

However, when she came down from her rooms next day, even earlier than usually, the servant told her that the Earl had already left the castle. Doireann sighed and walked her usual way down to the stables. She would ride into the next village today and try to form acquaintances among the villagers. At home, it had been her mother's task to see if one could help the poor, and Doireann knew that she would find the same joy in it.

When Doireann entered the stables, she did not believe her eyes. Guy of Gisborne was standing next to Philia with his back to her and the otherwise shy horse let him pet her and even enjoyed it, apparently. Her husband had not noticed her and Doireann listened in amazement how Guy scratched the horse between her ears and talked to her softly. "Hey, Philia, you are a pretty girl. Do you want to be my friend, too?"

Philia snored when she noticed Doireann and Guy turned around. When he recognized her, the smile vanished from his face, but he remained polite. "Milady, you have brought an excellent animal. Please excuse me." Without looking back, he walked over to his stallion and left the stables with him.

What was that? She had barely recognized her husband's grim voice, had never thought it possible that he was capable of any gentleness.

When he had turned around, she had seen his smile for a moment, before his eyes had lost their warmth and his lips pressed together tightly as usual. Doireann was confused and stroked Philia absent-mindedly. What had happened to Guy of Gisborne that had turned him into such a harsh, cold man? Was the scar in his face the reason? If one looked past it, Guy was breathtakingly handsome when he smiled. But then Doireann remembered his look at the wedding… that was hatred, and she did not know why. 

Hmm, had it been a coincidence that Guy had called her horse _friend_, or did he really understand the meaning of the Greek name? She was determined to find out more about her husband and started to ask the servants cautiously for the next few days. The only thing she learned, however, was that he could indeed read and write and that he took care of the administration of Bamburgh himself and that he had excellent knowledge of horses. Almost all the servants were afraid of him; only the stable manager found ample praise about his new Lord. Guy himself did not give Doireann any opportunity to get to know him; evidently he was avoiding her.

Two months later, another messenger of the King found his way to the Earl of Bramburgh's court, and just like that last young knight he did not deliver a message that make Guy very happy. He and his young wife were ordered to the King, who was hosting a big fiest. Guy could only imagine too well what this would be like. His_ poor young wife _would be pitied by everybody to be married to him, and she would have ample opportunity to have her share of the gossip about him at the King's Court.

Doireann did not like the atmosphere at Court. She felt stared at like an animal behind bars; people greeted her with pitying looks or condescending remarks and she noticed how most people were avoiding Guy. The King himself had leered at her when she was introduced to him. Obviously, these looks and his wife's subsequent discomfort had not gone unnoticed by her husband, for when he thanked the King for the invitation and his congratulations about the wedding, he took her hand and kissed it. Shortly after that, the King motioned for them to leave and Doireann turned to Guy. "Thank you, Milord." Guy's expression betrayed nothing. „There is no reason to thank me, Milady. You are _my _wife and everybody should bear this in mind, _you _as well, my love." With these words he left Doireann. Just wonderful, she thought. It seems to be my destiny to be left standing somewhere by him. And why all these remarks? Did he expect her to take a lover?

When she turned around, she caught a knight watching her. Even though he was really handsome, Doireann felt an innate dislike. Why? He had not harassed her, not even talked to her, or undressed her with his eyes. By his side there was a beautiful woman with dark hair who was smiling amiably at her. Both of them were coming towards her and the man bowed politely.

Before the knight could say a word to greet her, Doireann felt her husband's tight grip around her shoulders and heard Guy's soft but unmistakably hateful words behind her. "You had better stay away from my wife, Locksley. She has better things to do than listen to your gossip."

"Gossip? About you? I don't suppose she knows enough about your past…" the man called Locksley sneered and looked at Doireann with a challenging eye.

Doireann looked straight into the knight's eyes. "I don't know who you are, but I know that my husband will tell me all that is necessary." Then she turned to Guy. „Would you accompany me outside? "

Guy offered Doireann his arm and together, they left the room. The incident had not gone unnoticed and Doireann felt the looks piercing into her back. Without saying anything, Guy led Doireann into the garden. He knew that he had not given his wife any reason so far to think well of him, and still she had defended him in public. Why? And what was he supposed to tell her? That he had tried to murder the previous King, that he had once desperately loved the woman in that room and thought he could not live without her, that it was Locksley who had disfigured him and that he had wasted his life?

Doireann noticed that her husband was not as controlled as usually. No slicing or sarcastic remark crossed his lips.

"Why have you done this, Doireann?" he asked.

Doireann looked at him in surprise; he had called her by her first name, but obviously he had not noticed himself. "You are my husband", she replied simply, as if this was an explanation in itself.

Guy blinked and Doireann saw how he truly looked at her for the first time, not as his wife, but as a person, and for the first time, he did not seem to consider her an unbearable burden.

Two days later, Guy and Doireann returned to Bamburgh Castle. If she had hoped that he would tell her more about himself, she was disappointed, even if his behavior towards her was not as icy as before. There were times when she had the feeling that he was observing her, but the fleeting moment at the Court was gone, and he had not addressed her by her first name since. On the other hand, her lady-in-waiting told her everything she had heard about Guy of Gisborne at the Court. Doireann knew that it was wrong to listen to gossip; a lot of what she heard _could_ not be true, but what she learned laid itself on her heart like a heavy boulder. The facts were that Guy had been imprisoned for four years for treason of Richard the Lionheart, and the scar had been done to him by the man who had addressed her at Court, the Earl of Huntington, and the beautiful woman on his side, now the Duchess of Huntington, had once been betrothed to Guy of Gisborne and had left him at the altar under peculiar circumstances. What was true of all the things people told, and what was exaggerated or made up?

For sure, Doireann had heard everything there was to hear by now and she would despise him for it. She had not listened to Locksley, but she knew that the servants would pay attention to everything that was told at the Court, and his wife's lady-in-waiting would not be an exception. What had her behavior towards him not changed? Why did she remain friendly? What was she after? Could it be…? But then he saw Marian before his inner eye, how she had deceived him with her put-on gentleness. Shortly before the wedding he had visited her at home. Her father was sick, she had told him, probably the excitement before the wedding, and it was only later that Guy had learned that Locksley and his friends had hidden in her bedroom during his visit. Locksley had not missed the opportunity to visit him in the dungeon and to tell him how hard they had laughed about him. He would observe Doireann closely. She was a beautiful woman, he had to admit. He knew by now that she was not timid as he had first assumed, that the servants had taken to her and that people in the village told good things about her. Doireann was not a healer, but obviously she helped the ill wherever she could. What if his wife was indeed what she seemed to be, a true saint? What good did it do him? What should such a woman do with a man like him? There were no second chances. Why should he hope when there was no reason to hope? But if she was indeed honest, maybe she deserved it that he treated her better.

Doireann did not know what to do anymore. All her attempts to improve her relationship with Guy had failed. Even if he was friendlier to her than before, there was no doubt that he wanted her to leave the castle today rather than tomorrow. The people in the village liked her, but she was and would remain a stranger. She was lonely and even her daily rides did not bring back that inner balance that she had once possessed. When Samuel joined her for the rides, she ordered him to keep his distance. If he had ridden next to her, he would have noticed the tears that came far too easily these days. Instead of cheering her up as the used to, the wide, open countryside made her cry. What would she give to be home! Instead, she was in a foreign country and married to a man who was indifferent to her. Where she had at first been relieved that he did not come to her room,,now she thought of all the years ahead of her… years without children.


	4. Chapter 4

**There will be some violence in this chapter. If you cannot stand this, do not read any further. **

Chapter 4

Something was wrong with the Mistress. She was pale and hardly ever ate, became thinner and thinner and was unusually sleepy. Could it be that…? Yes, indeed, the Mistress was expecting! She should have thought of that sooner. Sarah, Doireann's lady-in-waiting, was happy and hurried to tell the cook to prepare a special diet for the Mistress from now on, so her stomach would not get upset. Also, she would speak with Samuel; in her condition it was surely not a good idea to keep up those long horseback rides. The Mistress, however, was not inclined to limit her rides, and Samuel was at a loss at what to do. If something happened to the Mistress… The best thing would probably be to speak to the Earl.

Guy looked up from his books when a servant knocked; the stable manager was asking to speak to him. Guy was surprised; everything was fine in the stables, what could the man want?

„Milord, you know that Samuel is accompanying your wife on her rides according to your orders. But now that the Countess is expecting…"He was twisting the brim of his hat with his hands, highly embarrassed. "Maybe you should speak to the Mistress if it is really wise to pursue the daily riding in her condition…"

Guy put down his quill; he was sure he had not heard correctly. _Expecting? Her condition?_ Frozen inside, he directed his cold blue eyes to the stable manager. „You are right. I will speak with her personally. Now go."

The stable manager left in confusion. Something was not right.

_How could he have been so blind? __She was far from being a saint. While she was allegedly tending to the sick, she had been whoring around. But she should not have made the mistake of getting herself pregnant. She would pay for that._

Doireann was lying in her bed; she felt tired and drained of all energy. If she only had someone to confide in. She closed her eyes and tears started to roll down her cheeks. Suddenly she heard her bedroom door being opened, and when she looked up, Guy was gazing down at her, his look filled with so much hatred and contempt that it took her breath away. Guy gripped her arm, brutally wrenched her out of bed and started shaking her.

„Sad that you've made a mistake, are you?" he hissed. „How long did you think you could deceive me? When did you want to tell me? I've warned you about trying to fool me. I've just heard the _good news_. And I had almost believed that you were different. Who was it, who? Answer me!"

Doireann felt numb and stared at Guy with her eyes wide open as his hand hit her hard in the face. Had Guy not held her arm in an iron grip, the force of his blow would have send her to the floor. She screamed out in pain. „What do you want? I don't know what you are talking about", she sobbed.

Guy kept shaking her and raised his hand once more. „Don't take me for a fool. Who's the father of the child?"

„What child? There is no child!" Dorieann sobbed and Guy lowered his hand. He could see that she was not lying. _What had he done!_ Doireann's cheeks was blue-red and swollen, her bottom lip split and her small body was shaking in crying spasms. Guy was disgusted by himself; he was exactly what the world said about him, a monster. Cautiously he picked up Doireann in his arms and placed her on the bed, where she curled up into a ball. Guy took the pitcher from the nightstand and dipped a linen cloth into the cold water. When he touched his wife, she flinched. "Doireann, forgive me, please forgive me." he called out hoarsely. He sat down on the bed, placed her on his lap and embraced her in his arms, then stroked her hair again and again and rocked her gently in his arms. She let him do so without resistance. "Please forgive me", he begged over and over. „I thought you had deceived me, too."

Slowly, Doireann's weeping grew fainter, and Guy placed her carefully on the bed again. He took up the linen cloth once more and cooled her face, then he was standing in front of her, watching her, his arms hanging down his sides, lost for words. _How she must hate him now!_ When Doireann opened her eyes, she saw her husband standing before her, his regret of what he had done and his self-loathing. Guy swallowed while his wife was watching him silently. "I will leave you know and send you a servant who can treat you with some herbs", he said flatly and turned to leave the room. "No, stay", Doireann replied softly, and Guy looked at her in surprise. "How can you bear being in the same room with me, Doireann?" he asked.

Doireann realised that she had arrived at a sort of crossroads. She was only seventeen, but she had walked through life with open eyes and she knew that there were men who kept raising their hands against their wives. Perhaps she was making a mistake, but she was willing to take the risk. She had seen the regret in his eyes, and as once before, he had addressed her by her first name. "You have asked me to forgive you and I will. I forgive you." Doireann said.

Guy looked at her without understanding. "You forgive me?" He frowned. "I don't understand. How can you…?"

„Please tell me", Doireann went on, „where you got the idea that I was expecting a child."

"Your lady-in-waiting…" Guy replied, and then Doireann realised why Sarah had been behaving the way she did, and also how Sarah could have gotten the idea.

„Please don't punish her; she had reasons for her assumptions and she meant well. "

She got up and put her hand on Guy's arm. Guy could not believe it. _What kind of woman was Doireann?_

Except for a few occasions, Doireann had only seen her husband's face as hard and cold, but now he looked at her with eyes that told her more than he seemed to realise.

"Milady?" There was a knock. „Milady, is everything all right? I have heard strange noises."

„Come in, Sarah", Doireann replied. When Sarah laid eyes on her mistress, an involuntary cry of horror escaped her, and she looked at Guy, who was standing there with a face like stone.

„I took an unlucky fall, Sarah", Doireann. „My husband was here and could prevent the worst. Please fetch some herbs for the swelling, and warm water."

The servant left with a look that told exactly how little she believed in her mistress's words, but what else could she do? Later she told the whole gentry what she had seen. Unlucky fall, my ae! She would keep an eye on what was happening.

The swellings in Doireann's face faded quickly, and strangely enough the icy relationship between the Earl and his wife seemed to have improved. He even joined her on her rides from time to time; she was eating again and seemed to be in better spirits. There was no further talk about a baby.

Guy felt uncertain. He had been determined never to have feelings for a woman again, and it had seemed easy to him. With his past and his looks no woman would ever find him attractive. He had seen the glances at the King's Court and been relieved to return to the solitude of Northumberland. But Guy noticed that Doireann seemed to get under his skin. It was not just the fact that she was a beautiful woman; her whole person roused feelings in him he had not thought possible anymore. But how could he hope that she would ever have feelings for _him_?

She had forgiven him and was friendly, but Guy knew by now that it had been Doireann's wish to become a nun. Maybe it was her faith that had made her forgive him, and she would feel dishonoured and tainted if he touched her. When he sat next to her at the table, he felt the desire to take her hand in his; when they were riding together and her long hair got tousled by the wind, he wished to smooth it.

She loved horses and, like him, could breathe freely when she looked down from the hills. More and more, without noticing, he sought her out. The gentry was relieved to see their master less irascible, and the cold relationship between Guy and Doireann slowly gave way to an easy trust that, nonetheless, never crossed certain borders.

As summer came, Doireann asked Guy to invite her family to Bramburgh, and shortly after that, a messenger delivered the happy news that the parents, as well as two of the younger brothers, and a cousin would accept the invitation.

Guy behaved hospitably towards his wife's parents, totally different from their wedding. It was not in him to be warm and outgoing, but Eilidh Gordon noticed his changed behaviour and smiled at him amiably. "Is it possible that you have indeed found a way to his heart, Doireann?" she whispered to her daughter later on.

Only Liam Gordon shot dark looks towards Guy and did not make any effort to hide his dislike. Doireann seemed to have accepted her fate, but Liam's fears seemed to be confirmed. He had asked questions among the gentry and heard about a strange incident when Doireann had allegedly taken a fall and hurt her face. Liam could only imagine too well what had really happened. If only Doireann had accepted his proposal!

She had let her brothers tease her and welcomed her cousin excitedly, extending both hands to him. Liam Gordon was a tall, handsome man with blond hair and sparkling blue eyes, who, as Guy knew by now, had once proposed to Doireann. Doireann noticed Liam's looks and started to feel uncomfortable. She tried to direct their conversation to less sensitive matters like riding, her – and now also Guy's – long and fast rides, her mare or also Guy's stallion; and at some point her cousin seemed to accept that she did not want to talk about her wedding and even admired the stables.

Guy saw the looks Liam gave Doireann when he felt nobody observed him, and he felt anger boiling inside of himself, seeing both of them sharing their easy companionship. He could not help but being relieved when the family left after three days.

Doireann had already said goodbye to everybody when Liam turned to her once more while the others were already walking down to their horses and carriages. His face was serious. „Doireann, please forgive my bluntness, but I must know how you _really_ are. I know you will never say a bad word about anyone and you will always try to find good in people even when there is no good. You know I don't trust Gisborne, and what I've heard – an accident? Who is supposed to believe that?"

„No, Liam, really, you are wrong. He is not what he seems to be when you first meet him…"

„Doireann, should he harm you in any way, I will kill him!" Liam erupted, and took something out of his pocket that Doireann only recognized after a moment. When she was twelve years old and Liam was the knight in shining armour to a woman on the threshold of womanhood, she had given him a ribbon with gold thread that he had attached to his lance. _He still had it!_

„You remember?" Liam asked softly. „Promise me one thing: Should you ever change your mind, should he hurt you, send your servant to me, bearing this ribbon. I will come and get you immediately."

Hesitating, Doireann nodded and took the ribbon from him. She knew that Liam would not believe her when she told him that Guy was not the monster he thought he was.

As Liam followed the others, he turned back and saw Guy of Gisborne standing next to Doireann. His Doireann was bound to this man because the Kind had wanted to secure peace. Only a few months after the wedding, the friendship between Kind David and King John had become so strong that even occasional muggings by rebels could not change anything. A few months too late for Doireann. How much he hated this man!


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm sorry; this is only a short chapter, but som****etimes I like cliffhangers…..ggg**

Chapter 5

_W__hat was it that Liam Gordon had given to Doireann? _When Guy asked her in an offhand way, Doireann answered hesitatingly that it was a keepsake. She saw the look on her husband's face. How could she tell Guy that she had once been infatuated with Liam and that he had carried her ribbon at a tournament? Doireann knew that her husband did not love her, but she would dearly feel his reaction if he suspected her to be unfaithful. He would not believe that Liam was but a dear cousin to her. 

Doireann looked at Guy. „It was a nice visit and I thank you." Then she laughed. „Nonetheless, I am looking forward to our rides again."

When they went riding in the afternoon, the tension was gone. Sometimes, when Guy looked at Doireann, she almost believed that he did have feelings for her, but then why had he not touched her so far? Where she had first been relieved, she knew now that she longed for more than friendship; much more. 

The feelings seemed to have appeared out of nowhere; she could not explain herself. When she looked at Guy, she hardly saw the scar anymore, even though it ran across the length of his face, red an obvious. Maybe she would make a complete fool of herself, showing him that she wanted more, but maybe… Sometimes, late at night, he sat in the great hall and so far she had left him alone. Doireann had been watching Guy sitting in the light of a candle; obviously something seemed to amuse him at times when he read, for he smiled from time to time. Doireann could only see his profile, his unmarred cheek. She simply looked at him and had to swallow; she had not been the least bit prepared for her own reaction. With Liam it had always been comfortable, and _comfortable _was just what it was not, being in Guy's presence. She could not name the feeling; if she looked at him now, she felt like her breath had been taken away. She wished he would look up and direct his steel blue eyes at her; she wished his fingers, which were holding the scroll, to touch her skin. Never before had she felt anything like that! She had been certain that a woman only bore her husband's touch because she wanted children. She could not imagine what desire was like – until now.

Guy was in deep concentration and did not notice her until she was standing right next to him; he looked up in surprise. What should she say? It had been a stupid idea to come down here. She was no seductress; the role had never suited her. Her attire was more useful than alluring and she could not imagine smiling at Guy with a coquette flash of her eyelashes either, the way she had seen women do at the King's Court. How did they do it anyway? Maybe she'd better go back upstairs.

„Stay", Guy said when he noticed that Doireann turned to leave. "Is there a special reason why you came down here?"

"I thought… what are you reading?" Guy handed the scroll to Doireann but she shook her head after a quick glance. "I can read and write and I see that those are Greek letters, but that is all. It was my brother who suggested the name for my mare when I needed a nice name." 

Guy was amazed; never before had Doireann sought his presence in such an obvious way. Maybe there was a chance for him after all. „It is Homer; do you know Odysseus?"

„No, I don't. Would you… would you read it to me, I mean translate?" When Guy nodded, Doireann sat next to him, and Guy began to read. Just like down in the stables when she had seen him with Philia, Doireann was again surprised at what her husband's voice could sound like. When he had ended, she put her hand on his arm and smiled at him.

"Thank you; I liked that very much." She stood up, and so did he, and suddenly she felt his lips on hers; a light touch at first, and at last she felt his tongue between her lips. At the same time, his arms enfolded her in a tight embrace. She felt his lips on her neck and heard her own heavy breathing. Oh Guy!

She must have made a noise, for his embrace loosened, and when she looked up, she saw his eyes, and what she saw left her devoid of breath. Not a trace of indifference!

Doireann felt herself shaking, and Guy was brushing her lips and cheek with his fingers. He noticed the confusion in her eyes and knew that he must not rush things. She was inexperienced and he would wait until tomorrow. Now that he knew that she had feelings for him… 

Slowly he let go of Doireann. "I think we will leave the rest for tomorrow," he said hoarsely, and all Doireann could do was nod. 

_Tomorrow_… 

It was just after dawn when Guy went down to the stables. He had not slept much that night and needed a ride this morning. Shortly after he had left the castle, he spurred his horse into full gallop. It never been more beautiful to race on the back of his stalltion along the river towards the sun coming up on the horizon than today. It was a symbol of what was about to happen tonight. Tonight he would…

With a loud bang, the saddle strap snapped, the ground was coming closer; Guy hit his head hard and everything around him went black. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Doireann turned over in her bed. She could hardly believe what had happened yesterday night. Now she was certain that Guy and she would not live to parallel lives any longer. There was a knock on the door, then a second, impatient one. "Lady Gisborne, are you awake? Lady Gisborne, something terrible has happened, the Lord had an accident. They have just taken him into the hall." The servant knocked again and then entered without waiting for permission. Doireann sat on her bed, in shock. _Guy? An accident?_ She pushed the covers away, hastily put on her petticoats and tunic and raced down the stairs.

They had place Guy on a makeshift bed close to the fireplace. He was pale, his eyes were closed and blood was trickling through a cloth place across a wound on his head. A scream broke from Doireann's lips and she knelt down beside him. _Was he dead? _„He's alive.", a voice beside her said, and she recognized the stable manager. 

"What happened?" Doireann asked, her voice trembling. A maid had brought warm water and a clean cloth, and Doireann carefully removed the blood from his face. Guy did not move.

„The saddle strap snapped, the Master fell and hit his head on a root or a rock", the stable manager explained. "It was sheer luck that I was out riding that early; I wanted to buy two horses in Glororum. If he'd been found several hours later…" He did not go on, but everyone knew what he meant. 

Guy was taken upstairs to his bedroom by two servants and did not regain his consciousness. Doireann had sent Sarah to get some herbs with which she prepared a liquid to dab the cloth in and to treat his wound. After that, she put a new bandage around his head. As she stroked his forehead gently, she felt a slight movement; his eyelids fluttered and opened a crack. Then he opened his eyes. „Guy", Doireann whispered and heaved a sigh of relief.

Guy's head hurt like hell and a wave of dizziness came over him as soon as he moved an inch. Nevertheless he tried so sit up, but Doireann pushed him back into the cushions gently. "Lay down, you took a nasty fall when your saddle strap snapped." Then she touched his face lightly and smiled at him. All shyness and insecurity had left her; she knew now that he had feelings for her as well.

„I'll be right back, I have to prepare some more herbs and get a fresh bandage. The maids are being too careless." Doireann left the room.

Guy could not believe his luck. He had never believed in second chances, but obviously he had been wrong. The way Doireann looked at him…

There was a knock on the door and upon Guy's call, the stable master entered, who seemed to be relieved to see his Lord in a better condition. But there was something wrong, Guy saw it immediately. „Milord, I have taken a closer look at the saddle strap because my first though was that the servant had not maintained the straps carefully enough. The strap did not just snap; someone cut it."

The clatter of a bowl startled Guy and the stable manager. Doireann had come back and heard the stable manager's last words. _It had to be a mistake. Who would want to kill Guy_? Trembling and with wide open eyes she stared at Guy while the stable manager retreated at the small wave of Guy's hand.

The strap had been cut? As Guy looked at Doireann, he felt himself freeze and how a cold hand touched his heart.

_How could he have been so stupid! He had seen with his own eyes how Liam Gordon had __said farewell to Doireann, and he knew how he felt about Doireann. That same night she had come to him and tried to seduce him; in order to give him a sense of security, no doubt. _

_She was in the stables every morning, and now she pretended that…_

Guy swallowed, closed his eyes, and breathed heavily. 

„Guy, what's the matter?" Doireann whispered worriedly, came closer and touched his hand, but when Guy opened his eyes, a look filled with hatred shot at her and he slapped away her hand.

„Do. not. touch me!" he hissed. „You may look as innocent as an angel, and yet you are a hypocrite that makes even Marian of Locksley look pitiful. I cannot stand the sight of you! Yesterday you said goodbye to Gordon, and today my saddle strap is cut? I should have known. And I thought…" His face was hard and full of contempt. 

„Guy, you cannot believe that I…"

„Save your excuses. Go, I don't want to see you anymore. Our marriage has never been consummated. As soon as I am better, I will go to the King and the Archbishop and ask for an annulment."

"You cannot do that. I love you, Guy, don't you hear me, I love you." Doireann stammered in disbelief.

„Love? Don't bother with lies and excuses. You don't need to be afraid that I will betray your secret; I have no desire to make a fool of myself. I will find an explanation why the marriage was not consummated. Go! Just go! I don't want to see you again, ever!" His voice had risen continually, and his last words came out in a furious roar. His eyes were like daggers and he seemed close to insanity. While Doireann stumbled out of the room in horror, Guy fell back into the cushions, exhausted. 

With her heart beating hard, Doireann remained standing outside the door for a while, then went upstairs to her room. She and Liam should have been after Guy's life? Doireann had known Liam since her childhood and knew that he could never do anything like that. Guy couldn't know that, but the fact that he thought _her_ capable of such a thing…

She washed her face with cold water and fixed her hair. She _had_ to speak with him; she had come to know yesterday that he did have feelings for her; he would listen to her. 

But when Doireann was standing in front of her husband's room, a servant blocked her path. "Milady, I am sorry, but the Lord has ordered not to let you enter his room under any circumstances." He hesitated. „Please, My lady, I would like to, but… and you know what happens if I let you inside."

Without a word, Doireann turned away and went to her room. Servants continued to deny her access to Guy's room when she tried to speak to him. Some of their looks were incredulous, some reflected pity. There were others, however, whose faces turned hard and disclosed nothing when they looked at Doireann. The reason for this breach was known now, and even though Doireann was popular, the cut saddle strap was a fact, and her cousin was a handsome man - without a doubt. The way Liam had looked at Doireann had not gone unnoticed by the gentry either. 

One week later Doireann realised that there was no chance for her to win her husband's trust back. No, winning back was the wrong term. She knew that she had never had it to begin with. When Guy had hit her, she had forgiven him, and yet he had not even _begun_ to trust her. He was not even willing to _listen_ to her, to give her a chance. To Doireann, love and trust were inevitably linked. What Guy had felt for her had obviously been lust and nothing more. Everything else had been wishful thinking on her part; Guy was evidently incapable of loving. Doireann did not doubt that he would actually appeal to the King and the Archbishop for an annulment. But she would not remain here like the proverbial sacrificial lamb and wait until that day. Her marriage was over and the sooner she learned to cope with it the better. 

Slowly but determinedly Doireann opened the chest in which she kept the ribbon Liam had given to her, and by dawn, her servant was on his way. She was calm, calmer than she had ever believed she could be. She had not even cried but instead completed her chores as before. She knew that Liam would come in a few days and get her. One last time she had Philia prepared for a ride and rejected Samuel's company in an unusually harsh way, leaving him confused. On horseback, all the tears she had held back for so long finally came. There was little that she would take with her; only what she had brought, nothing of the splendid garments that she kept in her chests, being the Countess of Bamburgh.

When she saw Liam arrive in the castle yard, she hurried downstairs. "Take me home, Liam." was all she said. Her eyes were unusually large and her face looked like stone. Liam did not ask any questions. What would the gentry think of her depart from the castle, Doireann asked herself. Guy did not want to see her anymore, and what _should_ she tell the gentry? Obviously there were a number of them who believed that she had indeed tried to kill her husband. 

She left at dawn, accompanied by a horse for the baggage, her cousin, her lady-in-waiting and her servant. The last time she looked up at the castle, she saw the dark figure of her husband standing at his bedroom window. It was over.

Guy looked down into the castle yard, watching Doireann leave. Gordon hat come to get her; she did not even bother to deny her affair with him but mocked publicly the husband she hated so much. How could he have been so deceived? When he had touched her, she had edged closer, and he had been happier than he had ever been in his whole life.

Even Marian had not been able to evoke feelings like these in him, and like her Doireann had laughed at him. Why had she denied everything at first? For several days after the incident he had heard her voice in front of his door. What did she want? Doubts were beginning to eat at him – until now when she left with Gordon.

For several hours Liam and Doireann were riding next to each other in silence; sometimes he looked at her expectantly until he finally asked: "Don't you want to tell me what happened?"

Doireann swallowed and met Liam's worried gaze. Of course she would have to tell him everything at some point; the longest she could put it off was until they got home. Why should she not tell him now when it concerned Liam, too?

"Guy took a bad fall off his horse and was lucky to have survived it. If the stable manager had not found him by chance… It was no accident; someone had cut his saddle strap, and Guy thinks…" Even though Doireann had been able to keep her composure so far, now tears welled up in her eyes. "He thinks that you and me…" She could not go on.

"Doireann, how can he think that you would do a thing like that? Has he…?"

Doireann interrupted him. „Please, Liam, I don't want to talk about it. When we are home, you will hear everything."

Niall and Eilidh Gordon were surprised to see her daughter. Only a short time ago they had visited her at Bamburgh Castle, and everything had seemed fine. What had happened? After they had sent away the servants, Doireann's parents and Liam sat down and Eilidh embraced her pale daughter. "Tell us what happened."

Doireann repeated what she had already told Liam. Niall Gordon's eyes shot sparks and his fist hit the table with a crash. "How dare he!" he roared. "This Englishman is insulting the honor of the Gordons. Tomorrow morning I will ride to Bamburgh and…"

Doireann shook her head. Please don't do that, father." Niall Gordon looked at his daughter in disbelief. "We cannot simply accept these accusations."

"There will be no accusations. He says he does not want to make a fool of himself and he will get an annulment. That will not be difficult for our marriage has never been consummated." Her last words were barely audible.

"Child, what do you mean by 'never consummated', Eilidh asked. "At our last visit my impression was that things had improved between the two of you. Am I wrong?"

Liam's voice interrupted the silence. „You can say whatever you want. This is the best thing that could have happened to Doireann. This marriage was forced by King David and King John of England. If the marriage gets annulled, Doireann is free. At our last visit I talked to the servants. This man has…"

"I know what you want to say, Liam, but it is not important now. I will not object to the annulment but I cannot be happy about it either. I loved him.

Liam stared at Doireann and turned pale.

„I would like to lie down now, please." Doireann's voice was soft but determined and she left the room. 


	7. Chapter 7

An hour later there was a knock on Doireann's door, and when she opened, she faced Liam. "I must speak with you", he said and Doireann let him in. He remained still for a moment, then cleared his throat.

"You cannot have been serious when you said that you love this man. I know how he treated you from the beginning. I was in England; what they say about Gisborne is no gossip. The gentry at Bamburgh were talking, too, Doireann. You will not deny that he hit you; your face tells me everything. – Please, Doireann, you will be free soon, please marry me." Liam took her hand. „My feelings for you have not changed. No, they have, they are stronger now. You said yourself that the marriage between Gisborne and you has never been consummated. You cannot love him."

Doireann shook her head. "Liam, I am really fond of you, but it is no more than friendship, and it will not turn into more. I never imagined I could feel this way… please forgive me, it is not right to speak to you about another man, even if there is no future for me and him." Doireann wiped away the tears hastily that welled up in her eyes.

Liam had left her, disappointed and hurt. he could not understand that she had feelings for Guy despite allt hat had happened and that she would never be content with anything else even though she liked Liam a lot. She only hoped that her father would accept this.

* * *

Three weeks had passed, but there had been neither an answer from Guy of Gisborne nor from the King. Doireann was glad that she had always had a good relationship to her mother. She involved her in her chores and tried to distract her as well as she could.

What would she do when Guy send her the message from the King and the Archbishop that the marriage had been annulled? Doireann had come to realize that she would not be content behind the walls of a convent. She liked to help other people, but the confines of that kind of life were something that would have made her unhappy. So she had something to be grateful for, so to speak.

* * *

Weeks had gone by since Guy's accident, and he had fully recovered – physically. He had resumed his old life and never mentioned Doireann anymore. King John was traveling. Guy had sent a messenger to the royal court who would notify him directly as soon as the King returned.

To the gentry, Guy seemed changed. Where he used to be irritable and irascible, then more balanced and peaceful when he seemed happy with his wife, it appeared now as if he had been drained of all life, as if nothing mattered to him. His eyes were dead.

Guy was standing in the yard next to his stallion; only when he was riding, some sort of life returned to him.

The sound of hooves made him turn around, and he froze – Liam Gordon! Guy withdrew a small dagger from his boots and ran towards Gordon at a speed nobody would have expected from this big man. He yanked the surprised knight off his horse and threw him on the ground. Before Liam could react, he felt the weight of Guy's knee on his chest and the razor sharp dagger at his throat. Little drops of blood pealed from the spot where the tip was touching his throat. Rage was boiling in Guy's eyes. "It was a mistake of you to come here. How stupid or insolent can you be?" His voice was strangely soft, but Liam knew, if he made one wrong move, Gisborne would cut his throat.

"What do you want? " Guy went on. „Did _she _send you? Can't she wait to take her lover to bed? It might have been a little hasty. Or do you deny having cut the saddle strap?"

"I don't deny it", Liam replied with a steady voice even though sweat was dripping off his forehead. "But Doireann didn't know. "

Guy loosened his grip; in Liam's eyes he saw that the knight had spoken the truth. Doireann hadn't known? He withdrew his knife from Liam's throat and rose. "Get up", he barked at Liam. He glared at him, furrowing his brow. "I still don't understand why you came here. "

Liam stood tall in front of Guy; his face was hard and did not show a trace of remorse. "If it weren't for Doireann, I would not be here. I was at court, Gisborne; I have made inquiries about you. If only half of the rumors are true… I have asked the gentry here as well, and I don't believe one bit that Doireann had an accident. I should have demanded a duel, but that could have led to a war and Doireann…" He looked at Guy in contempt. „You don't deserve a woman like her; I would have made her happy but she does not want me, even now that you want to get the marriage annulled. She thinks she loved you. I don't regret having cut the saddle strap, but I never expected you to suspect Doireann. I can't let that happen. "

Feeling numb, Guy stood there. He did not doubt that Gordon was speaking the truth, and looking at the young knight, he knew that he would have done the same thing in his place.

Guy bore the entire responsibility for what had happened afterwards. Doireann had loved him and he had sent her away. He had been given a second chance, and he had thrown it back in her face because he could not see what had been before his very eyes. Now it was too late. But then it hit him: It was not too late for the King knew nothing. He, Guy, was still Doireann's husband, and she would come back to him. But as fast as the thought had entered his mind, Guy came to realize that he had failed.

_Why should she come back? Why should she give me another chance? But I will not give up. I cannot lose her. She has to come back, she has to! If necessary, I will order her to come. I am her husband and this is my right._

Determinedly Guy putt he dagger back into his boot. „Come, Gordon, follow me. As soon as you have eaten something, we will leave. I will take my wife home. "

Paying no attention to the disbelieving looks of the gentry who had assembled in the yard and watched the whole incident, Guy made his way to the castle without turning around.

* * *

„The Earl of Bamburgh wishes to speak to you, Milord." Niall Gordon glared at the servant who dared disturb him, and his gaze grew even darker when he heard _who _wanted to see him. Nevertheless he got up when Guy entered the room.

„Bamburgh," he said curtly and condescendingly. "You should not have gone through all the trouble of traveling here yourself if you've got a message for us. You could have sent a messenger. I assume you have a letter from the King for us? You will surely want to freshen up before you leave."

Guy's mouth twitched as if to smile. "No, Gordon, on the contrary. I have no message from the King; I have come to bring my wife home."

„What is that supposed to mean?" Niall asked in confusion and frowned when he saw his nephew stepping up next to Guy of Gisborne.


	8. Chapter 8

Liam had not minded facing Guy of Gisborne; it was much harder to confess to his uncle what he had done. He took a step forward. „It was I who cut the saddle strap." he said simply.

"What! Niall Gordon roared. „What is this?"

„You nephew and I have had a little… talk about this incident." Guy explained. "I know now that my wife was in no way involved in this murder attempt. Please let her come downstairs."

Eilidh Gordon had stood there incredulously during Liam's confession. Eilidh's gaze scrutinized Guy but his face betrayed nothing.

„Why do you want to take Doireann with you? Do you think that she will follow you after all that happened?" she asked.

„She is my wife and she belongs at Bamburgh." Guy said without any further explanation. "Please tell her to come down."

Deep in her thoughts, Eilidh mounted the stairs. What should she tell her daughter? The way things looked, Guy only cared about losing his face if he left her with her parents; she had not seen anything that caused her to hope for her daughter.

Doireann had tried to distract herself with some needlework, but to no avail. While she was working on a black stallion for a tapestry, the image of Guy on his horse kept entering her mind. She neither heard her mother enter nor call. „Doireann?" Eilidh repeated and came closer. „Doireann, your husband is here."

She put a comforting hand on Doireann's shoulder when she saw her startle. "He has come to take you to Bamburgh. It was Liam who cut the saddle strap; apparently he told Guy so himself. Why he did that I can only guess. Your husband knows that you were not involved in any of it, but…"

"Liam?" _Liam, whose angry face flashed before her eyes when he heard that Guy had hit her, Liam who had always loved her and who thought he had to protect her from a husband she did not love. – Oh Liam, what have you done? … And Guy? He must be there to take her with him_. However, her mother's ‚but' had not escaped her…

„He did not say anything else, mother?", she asked. Eilidh embraced her daughter. "Come downstairs. I had hoped that he… I know that it will not be easy to obey him, but it is his conjugal right and we cannot do anything to prevent it."

Guy was standing with his back to her when Doireann entered the room, and he turned around at the sound of her footsteps. How beautiful she was! Her red hair tumbled to her waist in soft waves and her green eyes shone bluish in the light streaming in from the windows. She had loved him, she had told him so herself. He _could_ not lose her!

She remained standing a few feet away from him and was waiting without saying a word. Then it hit Guy. Yes, he could certainly order her to come back to Bamburgh with him, but he would lose her. She would not refuse but the moment down in the hall when she was lying in his arms and drawing closer to him, that moment would not return. He would have a wife and she would not refuse him but her soul would be separated from his.

The way he had treated her from the beginning flashed before Guy's eyes like in slow-motion. The wedding, the days after that, the way he had ignored, then yelled at her, how he had hit her. This image would never leave him. Doireann, how she had taken care of him and how he had scared her away with his false accusations. But she had said herself that she had loved him. How could that be? Why had she continued to give him yet another chance? Doireann looked small and frail but she possessed an inner strength he had never had himself. There was only one way.

Guy approached her and extended his hand. "I ask you for forgiveness, Doireann. Will you come home with me?"

Doireann's eyes grew large; she had not expected that. He had apologised in the presence of her parents and Liam and she could see in his eyes that he still feared rejection, and that he was afraid that it was too late. She stood very close to him and put her small hand into his. "Yes, Guy, I will come with you."

Doireann felt Guy's finger stroking her hand gently. A wave of joy surged through her; this was much more than an apology.

The sound of Niall clearing his throat interrupted the silence. Guy blinked; he had not noticed anything besides Doireann. Niall had been standing a few feet away; now he approached them and extended his hand. "I welcome you to my house." Guy shook it.

While Guy and Doireann were sitting at the decorated table in Niall Gordon's castle, Guy remembered the wedding that had taken place at Bamburgh. It had been an event devoid of joy and a day without happiness. Now, months later, he really felt like a groom, and one look at Doireann next to him showed him what she felt for him. Laughter and jokes filled the room and Eilidh was surprised yet happy when she heard her son-in-law join in the laughter. She knew that it would not always be a fairytale life for her daughter. Guy was a difficult man and would probably always be, but Doireann's love could change him. Liam had chosen not to attend the fiest. Even though Doireann and strangely enough Guy had forgiven him, it was too hard on him to see her so happy with Guy.

When Guy and Doireann left the festivities, Niall gave his wife a meaningful look and winked. Eilidh had decorated their room herself and put all her love into it. She knew what this night meant to her daughter.

Aside from the one passionate kiss a few weeks ago, Guy and Doireann had not touched so far. Now she felt his lips on her, gentle at first, and then crushing down on her with all his pent up feelings. His hands in her hair, on her cheeks, her shoulders, everywhere. Holding each other tightly they were standing in the room brightly lit with candles and decorated with flowers. Doireann's fine linen dress had fallen to the ground at some point, just like Guy's trousers and shirt. Timidly Doireann began to touch her husband, her finger stroked his skin gently and her eyes met hers while her fingers were touching the scar in his face.

„You are beautiful", she said, and he knew that there were second chances.


End file.
